Greetings from the box. Some of you will already know me as the body in the cabinet in the South Cloisters at University College London. I look forward with keen anticipation to discoursing with you fortnightly.

I trust I do not flatter myself with the thought that you may also know me as the founder of classical utilitarianism, and associate me with my most famous phrase ‘the greatest happiness of the greatest number’. It is to be hoped that within a short compass you will become well acquainted with the more extensive scope of my ideas, which propound, I would affirm, the only sound method by which to judge actions of all kinds.
I have been asked by the enlightened people at Nature to write this blog from my pivotal position at UCL to familiarise you with my ideas and to give a utilitarian response to some of the scientific issues of the day.
You may suppose that I don’t go out any more, as indeed I do not, but even in my own day I was dubbed the ‘Hermit of Queen Square Place’, because I spent my time at home, barring most visitors from the door and devoting myself to writing for the benefit of mankind. However let me assure you that, just as I did then, I continue to keep an eagle eye on what is going on in the wider world. The conversations I overhear, and the comings and goings which I see, are of great interest to me. And I anticipate with pleasure sharing some of my ideas with you, which I consider are of as great a relevance now as they ever were. I will share with you my views on the exercise of autochirous power, the phthano-para-nomic branch of the police, and of course contemporary topics such as embryonic stem cell research, the importance of animal welfare, medical ethics (organ donation), carbon emissions, travelling by train and by air and perhaps even cricket.
But let me begin this week by telling you a little about myself. I was born in Spitalfields, London in 1748. I think I may say in truth that I was regarded as a brilliant child. As a toddler I occupied myself with learned works on history and I studied Latin from the age of three. I went up to Oxford when I was 12 years old. My father was determined that I should become Lord Chancellor of England. I qualified as a barrister at the age of 21 but became convinced that, rather than practise the law, I should devote my life to reforming it: I did, and to reforming much else besides. And permit me to tell you I hate no one as much as I hate lawyers.
Allow me to tell you, men and women of science, that I have long been passionate about science. It would not be too strong to say that my mind has been formed to a large extent by my exploration of new ideas in science and scientific method. I have ever been eager not to let slip the opportunities offered by the latest developments in technology for the improvement of society at large. My work is nothing if not systematic and empirical. Indeed I devoted a large part of my work to developing a science of legislation, with a view to reducing the delay, vexation and expence inherent in the legal order. But more of this and my method in the coming weeks: prolixity was ever something for which I was wont to be criticised, and for the time being I must bid you farewell. Next time I shall tell you more about me.
Your ever laborious and devoted Servant
J.B.
Welcome JB. I look forward to learning at your perfuméd feet.
Well, you are not, it seems, Albus Dumbledore, but even so, a promising start. I look forward to reading more, especially of the science of (streamlining?) legislation. I wonder if your ideas will translate to the Internet? Welcome to Nature Network.
I pass you every day on my way to the Tube. But like a proper Londoner, I’ve never made eye contact.
Hello Jeremy Bentham! I’ve never been to UCL and didn’t even know you were
livingin a box there, but I do remember you from Philosophy classes.I never knew you were in a box at UCL. This will be interesting to follow! I remember a very interesting discussion in Philosophy class as an undergrad when your views and those of Mr J.S. Mills were thouroughly examined.
My work is nothing if not systematic and empirical
Indeed.
Dearest Mr. Bentham,
My good friend CG* and myself, having read with interest your recent book “Principles of Morals and Legislation” (the 1823 reprint is still available at abe books ) were slightly taken aback at the forthright protestation in your blog that “…I hate no one as much as I hate lawyers.” We felt you might want to reconsider that in the light of the litigious nature of the beasts and we would further encourage you to consider a number of epistemological jurisprudent quandaries that have been drawn to our attention; viz:
Q. How might one differentiate between a dead rat lying in the road and a dead lawyer lying in the road?
A. One might be assured that the dead rat would be the one with the skid marks in front of it.
Q. How might one address the news of 453 lawyers at the bottom of the ocean?
A. One might consider that a rather propitious start to the day.
Q. How might one define the dissimilarity between a bucket of faeces and a lawyer?
A. Why it is clear the difference would be the bucket.
Q. In what way could there be any contrast between a single human spermatozoon and a lawyer?
A. In as much as the spermatozoon has a one in six-hundred and eighty million chance of becoming a human being.
And mindful of the inevitability of the possibility that some of our ex-colonial cousins might be reading this very page we would proffer the following enigma:
Q. What might be the difference betwixt a lawyer and a vulture?
A. One is given to understand that a vulture does not normally qualify for frequent flyer miles.
We would add that in this century there are rules and controls over the testing of pharmaceuticals and the like using rats – licences and controls abound and researchers wishing to test the efficacy and value of such medicines have to be most ethical and careful. Whilst scientists used to use rats to test such matters, nowadays the tendency is to use lawyers for such experimentation. And the reasons are self-evident: 1. Lawyers are expendable. 2. There is no possibility of becoming emotionally attached to the subject of the experiment; and 3. There is a bountiful supply of lawyers.
And we hear some recent news that terrorists or pirates have captured an entire conference of top corporate lawyers. The hijackers have issued egregious threats and have warned that unless their demands are met, then one by one – and one every hour – the lawyers will be released.
We look forward to hearing more in this stand of your discourse.
With kind regards from UCL.
@Stephen: Brilliant!
To Mr. Bentham; your
corpsebodyperson in the box at UCL was one of the major drives behind my first applying for medical school, and later a graduate school position at your august institute.It’s a pleasure to make your acquantance, and your blog (and thus opinions), like that of Mr. C. Darwin, will be a regular read of mine.